Dance
by esotaria
Summary: Written in response to the prompt: Ishida, Orihime, dance.


Dance  
by Katie  
Disclaimer: Ishida and Orihime belong to Tite Kubo. This was written for the ever-wonderful Kia-chan in response to her prompt: Ishida, Orihime: dance.

Ishida had a deep, dark, dirty secret. It was something nobody, especially Kurosaki, could know about. It was the reason why he isolated himself from his peers, never let anyone come over to his house. If it was discovered, his reputation at school would be ruined.

He kept dolls.

It was only natural, if you thought about it. He was a tailor. He enjoyed sewing. And, since the population of Karakura town seemed more inclined to shop for clothing at brand stores rather than request custom outfits, Ishida's talents were limited to servicing the inanimate population. Hence the dolls, whose existence he kept an even more guarded secret than his Quincy powers.

Unfortunately, like most secrets, this one did not remain kept.

"Shall we dance? Ba da ba dum! On a bright cloud of music shall we FLY?"

Ishida watched Orihime twirl around the little ballgown-ballerina doll, thinking: _I am so dead come Monday. Kurosaki will never let me live this down_, unaware of the small, affectionate smile that hovered like a butterfly on his lips. Why he had brought Orihime to his house, he did not know; Orihime had simply started walking home with him, and by the time he noticed they had long since passed the street where she would have left him to go to her own house, they had reached his front door. By that point, he had no choice really but to let her in, especially with her look at him like an overly-excited puppy. And then, of course, she had found the dolls. The entire situation stank of of plotting, but as Orihime had had no way of knowing about the dolls in advance, and could not have been set on the trail by anyone else, Ishida could only blame it on some cosmic plot to make him suffer.

"Ne, Ishida-kun, do you want to dance?" Ishida's eyes refocused on Orihime with a start as she suddenly asked him the question.

"Excuse me?" he asked. 

"Kimi-chan is lonely!" Orihime explained, holding out the ballroom-gowned ballerina. "She wants somebody to dance with!"

Ishida pushed his glasses up his nose, flushing slightly.

"Aah, I believe I'm a little too tall to dance with...er...Kimi-chan, Inoue-san," he said with a slight stammer.

"Then find Kimi-chan a partner!" Orihime said matter-of-factly. "You know your housemates better than I do."

Housemates...Trust Orihime to refer to his doll collection as a group of living people. Still Ishida found himself rising to his feet and going to the cabinet where he kept his prize dolls. He knew exactly the doll for "Kimi-chan": a dashing tuxedo-ed man with a mask modeled after the Phantom of the Opera. A simple, but classic design that Ishida had created to cleanse his creative palette after several weeks of intensely creative costuming. Orihime nodded with approval as Ishida brought the doll over. 

"Kaemon-kun was an excellent choice, Ishida-kun!" she said. Ishida nodded awkwardly.

"Err...how do we start?" he asked. He had never actually danced with anyone before, and his fear of trying was only made worse by the fact that now he had to do it with _dolls_.

"It's easy!" Orihime said. "You just have Kaemon-kun take Kimi-chan's hand like this, and put his other hand on her hip like this!" She did this things even as she spoke, allowing Ishida to just watch. "And then Kimi-chan puts her arms around Kaemon-kun like this! And then they dance!"

At least they were poseable, Ishida thought. He couldn't imagine trying this with his immobile dolls. 

To be fair to dancers everywhere, what the dolls were doing could not quite be called dancing; like most teenagers who did not dance, they simply swayed with their arms around each other. This was simple enough, and Ishida soon found that he could easily sway "Kaemon-kun" back and forth without actually looking at the doll -- leaving his attention free to focus itself on Orihime. She was totally engrossed in the dance, humming a soft, romantic tune for the dolls to sway to. Her eyes were even softer, almost wistful. Ishida wondered if she was thinking about Kurosaki just then, imagining what it would be like if she were dancing with him. The thought sent a not-entirely-unexpected pang through Ishida's heart. He told himself it was because he hated to see anyone as cheerful and sweet as Orihime look sad, especially over the likes of Kurosaki Ichigo. But he couldn't make himself believe it.

"Inoue-san," he blurted out, "would you like to dance?"

Orihime looked up at Ishida with eyes wide with innocent confusion. 

"Dance?" she asked.

Ishida gulped and nodded. Then, without waiting for her answer, he gently pried the one doll from her fingers, setting both of the dolls to the side with their arms still wrapped around each other. After that he took her hand, his pale skin tinted red with embarrasment, and helped Orihime to her feet.

"One hand in yours, the other on your waist, right?" he asked nervously. Her eyes still wide, Orihime nodded, and Ishida put his hands where they were bid. "I...don't know any dancing music," he admitted hesitantly.

Orihime nodded, unusually quiet. She took a breath, just small enough to seem nervous, and began singing softly: "Shall we dance? On a bright cloud of music shall we fly? Shall we dance?"

They swayed gently, like the dolls before them. But the tune was slower than before, less bright and cheerful and more longing. It made Ishida's heart ache with the same sensation, along with a queer feeling of hope.

"When the last little star has left the sky, shall we still be together with our arms around each other and shall you be my new romance?"

Her singing faded; their swaying drifted to a halt. Orihime buried her face into Ishida's chest, and the Quincy noticed with a start how he had unconsciously pulled her closer during their dance. He blushed and began stammering an apology, making as if to let her go, but Orihime's around his waist stopped him. His breath catching in his throat, Ishida's hand drifted to the small of her back, pressing gently against it. Her hair smelled like some fruity shampoo -- Ishida had expected something a little more flowery, but since it definitely wasn't strawberry shampoo, he wasn't about to complain. And underneath the artificial smell was her own scent, fresh and pure. If one could get lost in smells, Ishida would have gotten lost in it.

"Thank you, Ishida-kun," Orihime whispered against his chest. In a haze, Ishida barely heard her.

"It's okay, Inoue-san," he answered, several moments after he would have had he been paying attention. He felt Orihime begin to pull away and immediately tightened his grip. "...how did the rest of the song go?" he asked, looking for any excuse to make her stay.

Orihime looked up at him then, her eyes communicating yet another expression: searching. What she was looking for, Ishida did not dare speculate, but whatever it was, she seemed to find it. A light flush appeared on her cheeks, and a few galaxies came into being in her eyes as her lips widened in a small but blinding smile. And then she buried her face in his chest again and Ishida wondered what was wrong. Did he offend her? Did she change her mind? Did she wake up and suddenly realize he wasn't Kurosaki Ichigo? Ishida was all set to panic (an art which he had perfected during his acquantince with Orihime) until he heard her voice singing softly, the sound muffled by his chest. 

"On the clear understanding that this kind of thing can happen, shall we dance? Shall we dance? Shall we dance?"

And so they danced.


End file.
